Relief sang through me at the sight. Orin was done. I’d accomplished what Rowena had set out for me, and he would be no more. I hadn’t saved everyone, but at least this wretched being would be gone forever.
Throughout it all, Orin never moved. And then out of nowhere, he laughed. The action caused blood to spurt from his wound, but he didn’t even bother to clap his hand over the gash. An aura of magic began to pulse from his body, and he pointed two fingers directly at Rorik.
“You think that was my only jewel? I have more hidden in me, and you’ll never find them.” His stare was wild, his words a booming cascade of dread. Roots erupted around Rorik and chained him to the ground. He roared at the thick trunks burying him in the earth, but he was pinned in a matter of seconds. The blight stemming from the land surged in earnest, coating his body and covering him in a thick layer of black sludge.
Orin chuckled. “Pity, I was looking forward to a more satisfying brawl after putting up with your insulting presence all these years.”
Wild, uncontained fury raced through Rorik’s expression, and his muscles bulged against Orin’s hold. “I’ll kill you.”
“I suppose you can now, if you’re strong enough. And speaking of death...” Orin turned his attention to me. “In case you forgot.” He raised one hand and snapped his fingers. The sound was more like a thunderclap, and it reverberated through the air and rattled my bones. A wisp of glittering green magic streamed toward his hand and absorbed into his skin.
Vora screamed.
I jerked my head toward her, toward my brothers, and watched as their tombs evaporated and they fell to the ground.
A panicked cry ripped through my throat as I ran. I didn’t care about the pain in my leg or the burn of my breath. I didn’t care about anything except getting to Noam and Nohr.
Somewhere, Orin laughed. “I will get what I want.”
I would die before I gave him anything. Moonlight coated my entire body as I uncorked my power. When my magic doused my eyes, Noam’s and Nohr’s threads came into view.
There wasn’t any color left to their strands. Just thick tar on the verge of solidifying and dusting to ash.
“No!” I shrieked.
“It won’t work.” Orin’s voice was amplified with his magic and filled the entire clearing. “Not without me.”
When I reached my brothers, I slid to my knees. The muck of loam coated my legs and arms, and my chest threatened to cave in. My frantic gaze raced over their forms. Consciousness slowly returned to their faces, followed immediately by harrowed looks of agony. Then mania. Their deranged chuckles and nonsensical speech bubbled around me.
“No,” I sobbed as I reached for their threads. I took one from each of them, pinching them into needles and thrusting themdirectly into my arms. The moment their blight-ridden threads made contact with my body, the rest of their infected strands burrowed into me. Pain exploded behind my eyes as blight from two separate sources flowed into my core. Burning tears cascaded over my cheeks.
Save them. Save them. Please, just take me instead.
Adrenaline surged through me, staving off some of the pain as I held my brothers close. They didn’t even register that I was there. Vora joined me on the ground and ran her hands through their hair. Her eyes were full and glassy, and she forced a swallow as she looked at me.
The blight on their strands liquefied and streamed into me like endless black rivers, and my body cooked from the inside out. My light waned. My vision swam. I didn’t have enough power to save them both.
My brothers were about to die.
“Give me what I want, Edira, and I just might spare them.” Orin strode closer, and he beckoned to Rorik with two fingers: “Wouldn’t want you to miss this.” The branches chaining him in place thrust from the ground, carrying Rorik with them. Shards of bark splintered off and fractured around Rorik as he rallied against their hold. But each time he managed to break free, more vines and roots shot from the earth to bind him tight.
Might.Orin would never save them.
The last dredges of my power bloomed from my center and pushed outward, coating my brothers in a soothing white light. Their blight still moved through their threads into me, but adrenaline was a magic all its own that somehow kept me from succumbing to the agonizing pain riddling my frame. If I couldn’t cure them, I hoped I went with them.
Vora looked beyond me to Rorik. Her lips pursed together. Slowly, she rounded her gaze back to me. Her words were nomore than a whisper: “I know you don’t trust me or him, but if you want to save you brothers, let it happen.”
A subtle shift in the loam drew my focus. It was slight, like the churning of soil in preparation for planting seeds, and then a ribbon of magic so clear and beautiful broke through the surface. It was the color of shined gold, glittering and full of promise. The hue of the beetle that’d set my life on this path. My gaze riveted to Rorik. His fingers had curled to obscure his palm, and the magic easily slid from his hand. I followed its trail down his leg and into the earth. To the ribbon now gingerly waiting by my fingertips. Slowly, it wrapped around my forearm without touching my skin.
It hovered there as if waiting for permission.
Heartbond.I didn’t know how I knew, but I did. I looked at Rorik, at his clouded expression. I looked at his life threads dancing about his frame, drenched in the same sickness that infected my brothers. The death sentence he’d delivered.
“I don’t want him,” I said to Vora without breaking his gaze.
“He knows,” Vora said to my back. “He doesn’t care. He’ll give you what you want and leave you be.”
Orin took a few more steps in my direction and smiled. He was so sure he’d won. “Well, Edira? What is your decision?”
